A Riddle long forgotten
by pixierosie
Summary: At the end of Harry's fifth year, Voldemort's return awakens fear in the heart of many, even in the noble and wise Dumbledore. In the hopes to find out more about the man he must help Harry to destroy, he calls upon Mathilda Vesta Torch, a strange woman,
1. Chapter 1

Dumbledore was in his office, standing as usual at this desk in deep concentration. He looked troubled; the lines on his forehead which had come with old age were now furrowed in a small frown- a result not of anger but of sadness and worry. He ripped himself from his thoughts and rejoined the world. "Warm night, isn't it Fawlkes?" he asked the bird as if expecting it to answer. A warm smile appeared on his face as he caressed the phoenix slightly in a way that would make one think that the bird had in fact answered. The professor got up and started passing around his office. Hardships were brewing for the wizarding world and he felt for the boy, which had to endure this undeserving weight on his shoulders. But it was his destiny, and no one, no matter how young, or old, weak of powerful can hope to change the trail that life sets out for them. The only thing he could do now was to try and help but he feared that it was not enough… Old age had weakened him so much- he thought gravely- and he wondered where the youth of his body, his agility and strength had gone; it's not that he regretted the passing of time, or the fact that he knew that sooner or later his time on this earth would come to an end, it was the nostalgia of years gone by, of all those he had the pleasure of meeting, knowing and teaching and of all those he had the misfortune of witnessing die, some right under his very own eyes. There wasn't a moment when he did not blame himself for some of those deaths… After all it was he who founded the Order of the Phoenix. Those extraordinary people had died in anonymity of their great deeds; no one knew that they had set down their own lives for the safety of others, their acts had faded into the darkness of time and would be forgotten with the passing of their loved ones. So many people….so many had vowed loyalty to a cause which was now quickly crumbling…

The strange clock on the wall rang once, signaling that half an hour had passed since it's echo had resounded ten times. It made a couple of wizards from the portraits wake in a very foul mood- the fortunate just twitched in their sleep slightly before carrying on with their low snoring tunes. Dumbledore's eyes traveled towards the clock. Why did she insist on always being late? Perhaps she had changed her mind- he couldn't blame her... In all those years that had passed she had not once talked about the happenings of that time, she had not once turned to her old self, and he was starting to wonder if after all these many years she was still whole...One thing was for sure though, he could not blame her and knew that all the wisdom of this world wouldn't be able to make her pain go away. He had tried on more then one occasion to convince her to talk, telling her it was in fact for the best, that all that anger bottled up inside her would not serve her well, yet the last time she warned that if she would be asked once again he would never hear from her again, and that the truth would disappear along with her. Yet now she had sent word that she was willingly going to tell him everything...

A knock came from the door. "Come in..." said the professor and the door opened slightly to show a young woman . She was neither tall nor slim, yet she had a certain charm about her- a strange yet undeniable one. Her blue eyes were blank, they held no happiness in them and her skin was very pail, as if she had not seen the sun for a very long time. The young woman looked about in her mid-twenties. Long blonde hair fell down her shoulders giving her a warmer appearance. She looked like someone who always seemed to have something on her mind, as if she was expecting something. Her face, though bore no lines, was clearly that of someone who had faced a lot of hurt in life. Her eyes did not shine and her smile faltered. For some reason- which he hoped he would be informed of- she had not aged one single day in all those years, yet Mathilda Vesta Torch was not the same, and he could not stop and wonder at how much the woman before him had changed…


	2. Chapter 2

There was something about this woman that would just not fit. She had a majestic air about her that came in contrast with her dusty torn robe, which looked as old as time itself. Despite the robe she wore and the serious face she kept on, she did not look as stern as one would think. As she opened the door her eyes grew a bit, yet not with surprise but rather with a resigned fear. "Why hello professor…" she greeted with a warm smile. "Hello miss Torch, it is a pleasure to see you again." She did not respond to this but merely nodded her head to show the approval of these words. "Won't you come in please….i was just about to have some hot chocolate." She nodded again and sat down, across from the professor. As she sat near his desk the light emanating from the fire had the gift of making her appearance a lot warmer, changing her blonde hair to a copper red one; her eyes were just as cold and unforgiving though. "Thank you..." she muttered while taking a sip "Warm night is it not? Peaceful..." she said calmly as if in a daze. "Yes, I was actually telling Fawlkes the same thing only a couple of seconds before you came." The woman's eyes traveled towards the clock. "I'm sorry for being late...I saw the boy leaving and thought it best to wait a while just in case he would come back." "No trouble at all, I have become accustomed with your tardiness a long time ago, somehow I always considered it a sort of signature trait of yours..." he said smiling. "Éclair?" Dumbledore offered and the woman's eyes shun while taking one and placing it on a small saucer. "Congratulations...your best yet!" She complimented. "Yes well i do remember they were your favorites". The woman smiled now, a true smile and for a second her face light up, the transformation was so obvious that it couldn't possibly be overlooked, not even by a man Dumbledore's age. A moment of silence followed, heavy, which the two people seemed hesitant to break, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Mathilda thought it right that she should be the one to do exactly that. "I'm sorry for my behavior the last time i was here..." the woman said taking another sip of coco. "As you can see it's like it never happened." The man said smiling again and pointing towards the vase on his desk that had field flowers in it. _'Like it never happened' _These words rang deep in the ears of Mathilda Vesta Torch and echoed more loudly then she had ever imagined them to be able. So many memories filled her mind that moment and the regret of that which had passed quickly followed, like it had done for so many years."I should have said everything sooner, but i didn't know...I didn't think there would be more... I made the dire mistake of trusting him once more." She said saddened. "Mathilda I have told you time and time again..._Nothing _of what happened is your fault. You did everything in your power to prevent it. You proved grate strength by surviving it, you prove grate strength by being in this room tonight. Surely you know that Vol- please forgive me, I do remember how much you hated people calling him that- Tom Riddle is back…You are of the few who knew that he was not truly dead to begin with, you know more of him then anybody else who is still alive on this earth. His death eaters believe that they know him, that they are close to him, but he does not look at them as more then his mere servants... You are the very element that might tilt the scale of good-fortune in our favor, something which at the moment is greatly, if not direly needed." "What do you know up till now?" She asked cutting the professor short- she did not like long curled fraises which had the soul purpose of postponing something inevitable, and usually, people postpone sad news, that which they find most difficult to say…The prospect, worried her. Dumbledore did not seem bothered by this lack of respect though, but actually quite pleased….this time at least she was taking interest in the matter, something which had not happened in his previous attempts. "The information which I hold was difficult to come by yet after some efforts and a few persuasive measures –at this his eyes sparkled mischievously- I have gathered some clues that might award me with a better insight on Tom Riddle. I have come to know that he is responsible for the death of his father and his father's relatives to begin with. I also know of his great thirst for power which he, out of sheer imprudence, demonstrated when I first met him..." The woman frowned slightly at the lack of information which Dumbledore appeared to have gathered, somehow she had considered him capable of finding out more, a man of his great power, how could he not? As if reading her mind the old man was quick to add. "One should never ignore the intricate details which the smallest of things can hold"- he paused slightly and carried on with a much more grave tone. "-the most important thing that I have found out, however, something which I regret knowing, and regret even more so for not realizing it sooner is that I have reason to believe that he has also performed several hocruxes-" At this the cup in the woman's marble white hand started shaking ever so slightly with unease. Dumbledore wouldn't have perceived the movement had it not been for the sound made when the cup touched the saucer. This attracted Dumbledore's attention, he eyed her hand for a moment before raising his gaze to her once more…he might have been right he thought, but it was far better to let her tell him should she wish to... The woman was still very much in doubt if she should be here in the first place. "- And I find myself at the present moment in the position of attempting to find out where he hid one of them." "And you are sure that I have knowledge of its whereabouts…" She said reprehensively arching and eyebrow. The professor smiled once more calmly. "I have no proof of that, and I am sure that should you know where the hocrux was hidden your good will would have edged you to divulged it. What I was hoping for was that the details you would give me could lead to it, help me find and destroy it… Mathilda, as always, I shall be honest with you. You see for some time now I have been trying to find more information about the man you once knew as Tom Riddle...in an attempt to stop him. So far though, I have not been as successful as I would have liked." Mathilda smirked in her cup at this. "Tom had a good way of leaving no trail behind..." She said in a bitter tone. "Indeed, I have come to find this out by my own- that offers an explanation to why my findings were so scarce and difficult to come by...Of what I know, you my dear are the only person who knew him far better then anyone, even better then his closest Death Eaters, though I know you were never one." Dumbledore made a slight pause so as to try and maybe spot if he's reasoning had reached the woman as he wished, yet her eyes were harsh, he questioned whether she would go along with this as he carried on with his words. " Tonight I stand here in front of you asking for your help...which is dreadfully needed at this point I am afraid. The Ministry, as you might have heard, have taken a blind and def stand to the obvious signs of Riddle's return. His army is growing once more...the darkest forces are on his side and against him the only thing we have is a handful of wizards...and the hope which we place in a boy" "Harry Potter..._The Chosen One_" She said remembering. "Yes- the same one. Mathilda, I know that I have no right to pride into your life..." "That's right, you don't..." She warned and for a second Dumbledore's hope diminished at hearing her retaliating once again. However the woman continued, seeming in a tight struggle yet not with Dumbledore, but with her own self. "But it doesn't matter now does it? I came here willingly tonight...Not one single day passes without thinking of it, without being constantly reminded of what happened, what's the use of hiding it from the world if I'll never be able to hide it from myself?" And as she said this she emptied a large pocket that her torn robe was concealing. On the desk she placed the only things that she owned today: a couple of old photographs and she pushed them slightly towards the professor who smiled sadly at them, recognizing some of the people there, including the woman before him who looked so different in the pictures... "Those are of less importance to you then to me...Yet they are all that I'm left with... These however-" she said holding two bottles that contained a silvery liquid. "May very well shed some light on questions you might have about the past..." She smiled a bit, but the smile seemed bitter, stretched as if. "Thank you…" Dumbledore said and the woman started to talk, starring at the few pictures that the proffesor had held in his hand.

"I remember Tom Riddle from my first day at Hogwarts…. He was but a child of 11 then, yet there was something about him that created unease. When professor Dippet told us to sit in alphabetical order I found myself sitting right after him. His eyes were traveling all over…from corner to corner trying desperately to see everything, capture everything in the grasp of his gaze and never let it go- it was fairly obvious he had had a muggle upbringing. I myself did not speak to him on that day…. I was nervous as it was. Yet I remember that when the sorting hat touched his head it boomed "_slitherin_". It proved to be , like all the Sorting hat's, a most righteous decision…It did not take long for Riddle to become a favorite among the professors, or should I better say-" at this she eyed the professor with a sad yet admiring smile "- some professors" Dumbledore chuckled a bit yet his tone held a bitterness to it. "I knew of his immense ambition and thirst, I thought it, then, that it was unwise to inform others of what I knew, but an old man like me should not go looking for excuses…" He ended with a slight sad smile. "Professor, from what I've lived and known, people never change, no matter what…Some things, may make them better for awhile yet this turn will always prove fleeting. I trust that no matter what, Tom would've become who he is today…. It is something that eases my sleep at night, and that makes my own thoughts of guilt lift." She moved towards the pensive and opened the first bottle. "Professor in order to make you understand everything I should probably tell you some things about myself as well, seeing how they are more or less linked with Tom." The man gave his approval and the woman continued. "Yet as I was saying….It did not take long for Tom to draw the attention of Hogwarts on himself, which he was most proud of, which he was careful to use and manipulate to his utter will- something which had become oblivious to all. I, along with my cousin- Rubeus Hagrid who was three years younger than myself- was sorted into Griffindor. You see my mother was his father's cousin, so I have no giant blood in me, as such I wasn't targeted by the slitherins as was Rubeus…" she said shaking her head "- as large as he was for 11 years old, he would still cry when the older slitherins would taunt him" "Yet you were always by his side if I remember correctly" "As much as I could be…. For though I was not a giant, I had something of my own to conceal. One of them being that my mother had gotten herself into St. Mungo's after a fight with a dark wizard- she was an auror. To my shame, I had tried to hide that as much as I could….. I did not want to explain myself or my life, and I knew that should the Slitherins as well as members of other houses-even my own- find out, I would be facing greater hardships. As you know, I was- and still am a Metamorphogus. Yet at the time so little was known about us that people were scared. Plus being but a child I couldn't control the gift as well as I would've liked so letting it slip- when mad or very saddened- was not one of my plans. For six long years I had managed to control it some-what, better then one could've thought possible. I had never been a great talent when it came to magic, as I believe you remember professor, but somehow I could always react violently when provoked, all that magic, bottled up inside, would just explode. Till my sixth year at Hogwarts it never happened yet one day it all changed...I am afraid that no words which I might say will shed more light on the situation then the memory itself….May I?" she asked motioning towards the pensive. Dumbledore nodded. "Miss Torch no matter what you might think….i do understand how difficult this must be for you and I pray that you forgive this foolish old man for troubling you" The woman showed her sad smile once more and poured the liquid into the pensive.

The image formed quickly and Mathilda could recognize in it her old Transfiguration class at Hogwarts. It was just as she remembered it, after all how could it not been...it was her own memory. It didn't take more then a second for her to spot Riddle sitting in front, yet at the very sight of him a feeling of emptiness cut through her like a knife. She expected this, yet she never thought it would hurt so much, that it would bring back so much pain. What scared her even more was that she didn't even feel that hate she thought would inevitably come...the feeling made itself scarce.

At the start of class a gray haired professor went next to Tom Riddle right after he entered class. All heads were tilted slightly so as to catch at least part of the conversation. In the back of the class a young Mathilda could hear her tell him something yet she only caught slight glimpses of the conversation which made little to no sense- she felt uneasy seeing how when the professor's back was turned Riddle looked at her and frowned a bit to which Mathilda responded with a stunned expression on her face. Class went on, Mathilda was in the far corner of the class, like always, hiding behind the larger students in the hopes that her teacher would not spot her, but alas, her presence never went unnoticed, specially when they had to practice what they learned from Transfigurations, Mathilda's least favorite subject. "I can't even remember how i got into that class, how i even passed my O.W.L.S. but i found Transfigurations harder and harder, I finally gave up on trying to do anything and just retreated in the back of the class, it was the only place where i was ever quiet though..." "Oh yes, I remember..." Dumbledore nodded with a smile on his face.

"Miss Torch, I would like to have a word with you..." Mathilda sighed and grumbled something but did as she was told. She looked so different in comparison to her older counterpart, you would not think that the proper person standing next to Dumbledore and the young blonde shuffling her feet towards the professor in an attempt to stop time itself were one and the same person "Yes professor?" The girl asked "I've been noticing your lack of attention and activity in class..." "Yes, i thought you would professor..." "I must say i'd terribly like to know what the reason behind this is... You were always a good student Miss Torch, no teacher has ever bothered to complain about you, except for your disrupter of class from time to time, and if i remember correctly you used to be quite fond of Transfigurations, which is why you took it in the first place if i'm not mistaken." "Yes professor, i know, it's just that-" Mathilda obviously hated having to explain something to which the only logical explination would have been pure, common laziness, so she just shook her head. " The professor scoffed slightly at her pitiful explination yet carried on. "Well whatever the reason, I'm afraid you are in need of some help..." "Help?" Mathilda asked curious. The professor nodded." And since i cannot help you, i have asked a student to do so..." An exasperated look formed on the girl's face as she put two and two together.. "Merlin, please professor, i promise you I'll try to do better, i don't want ..." The professor cut her off though. "Nonsense, Mr Riddle is a fine young man and i dare say one of the best that Hogwarts has ever seen..." "That's exactly the problem..." Mathilda said in a grumble. "I understand that this might be hard on you Torch, yet i do not see you with good eyes right now. If you do not grasp the basics how do you expect to pass or at least understand what we'll be moving on to next?" "But surely, another student could do it… A Griffindor, or a Ravenclaw." "True, yet I believe this should very well serve as an opportunity for a Griffindor and a Slitherin to get along at long last….Plus Mr. Riddle is one of the-" he paused a bit annoyed as at the time he was the head of Hufflepuff."- i actually dare say _the_ best. He'll help you learn quickly and remember everything..." he finished in a cheery voice. Mathilda inwardly cursed her professor's humanitarian tendencies, she spared as much favor on Slitherins as she would on any other vial loathing creature. "So i can't do anything about it?" Mathilda asked frowning. "Not unless you plan on finding someone better..." "I understand..." She said angrily. "Now I've taken the liberty of talking things over with him...and he agreed to tutor you- at least for today. Meet him in the library in half an hour, from then on you can plan your own sessions, if you think more will be needed...Miss Torch there is no shame in this what-so-ever." He added in an indifferenttone. "Really? Sure doesn't seem like that to me..." Mathilda said. "Nonsence, I'm sure soon enough you'll get the hang of it again. Now hurry up, Mr Riddle is waiting for you i'm assuming..." he ended cheerfully. Mathilda frowned at him uneasily. It was not like her to give up without a fight, but she knew better than to go against a teacher, a teacher who was not quite fond of her to begin with. "Good-day professor..." She ended and trudged out of the classroom.


	3. Chapter 3

She walked through the Hallways to the library but her heart wasn't into it. How could the professor have done something like that to her, no matter what he said, this was an immutable shame. Surely a Griffindor would have been better, a Ravenclaw, but not a Slitherin, and why on earth did the professor have to choose that particular Slitherin. _"the best student..." _The girl muttered to herself before entering the library. She looked across the room, and for a second hoped that Riddle would not be there- that would mean that she had at least done her duty of going there and seeing how Riddle would be absent then this would grant her the liberty of leaving, after all it couldn't have been expected of her to sit around and wait in the library all day. But sure enough her attention was drawn by a dark haired boy sitting at a table, looking bored and annoyed. The girl walked to his desk and sat down reluctantly at the table.

The older Mathlida looked at Tom Riddle and she could feel hot tears in her eyes forming, yet she blinked them away immediately- sadness being replaced with bitterness. She had been certain that with all these years that had passed the pain surely had subsided, but it wasn't true. Her memories had become much like drugs, she lived for them and from them and yet they were the cause of her deepest misery and sadness. She had made a vow a long time ago never to think of that time she spent at Hogwarts, yet now this old man beside her had made her brake this vow. "You're late..." said Riddle coldly. "I just found out..." said the young Mathila trying to seem distant and calm. "Isn't this delightful...I have to give up _my _time to spend it with you..." he said with a vague tone of sarcasm. "Trust me this isn't exactly a trip to Honeydukes for me either..." she snapped back. The two just stood there for a couple of seconds eyeing each other threateningly. "Can't say I figured out yet who he was trying to punish in the first place…" Riddle looked at her smirking -this had the immense gift of making the girl feel quite stupid, yet she suppressed the feeling. "You need to turn that into a goblet of wine for tomorrow..." he pointed towards Mathilda's rabbit that was sticking it's head out of her school bag. "I'm not daft, I know what we have to do…" she said and put the rabbit on the table. " Good boy Rupert...Erm..." she said confused not remembering the spell. "Well go on, you know what you have to do, do you not?" he asked arrogantly and Mathilda frowned at this "Of course I do..." she said confidently. "Eyes of newt and ears of swine, turn this rabbit into wine!" Mathilda said and pointed her wand at the rabbit. She knew perfectly well that this was not the spell that the professor had given out, yet she also had perfectly no idea of what that spell was- she hoped however, that through some miracle of Merlin it would still work. No such luck was to be found as the rabbit turned into a fuzzy white goblet with wine in it. Riddle looked at it amused though he was quick to lower the corners of his mouth once more. "Well I did it didn't I?" she asked glaring "It's the first time I ever saw a hairy goblet..." he said arching his eyebrow. "Well correct me if I'm wrong but you didn't specify what _kind_ of goblet you were looking for..." Time passed and no matter how much she would try she still could not get the spell right, but was much to proud to ask for it from Riddle, who kept eyeing her attempts in an amused superiority. "Are you sure you're not a squib?" he asked suddenly while leaning in towards the table, his tone of voice was filled with cynicism. Mathilda frowned at him, yet something was different about her, her hair started to get longer and longer and turned purple. "Does this answer your question?" she asked quite serious not moving her eyes from him and still frowning. Riddle looked at her slightly surprised by this but only for a second before regaining his pose. "You're a metamorphogus..." he tried to say uninterested but Mathilda could pick up traces of astonishment in his voice. "Really?" She asked in fake shock. "I'm quite surprised you haven't blown yourself up with it till now..." he sneered back. Mathilda squinted her eyes at Riddle as she placed her wand next to the goblet which had started to hop away. "It's not exactly like I've been parading it around now is it..." she said sharply "So you can turn into anything?" he asked ignoring her answer. "Probably...It's hard to control... It kind of gets out of hand when...-" she paused she somehow knew it wasn't a good idea to tell him those things so instead she decided on recapturing her gobblet. "When _what_?" he asked squinting his eyes with interest and leaning towards the desk once more. ... Riddle had taken an interesting stand towards the girl within a split second. Yet Mathilda did not return his tone of voice, the fact that he gathered interest for her only when he found out about her power made her realize all the more what kind of person she was dealing with...Still, though she would have denied it, that did not mean she was not enjoying the attention. Mathilda perceived this as a challenge though and continued as if uninterrupted, but with a much more determined tone "- when i have strong emotions. Everything does actually..." Riddle smirked at this. "You should learn to control those then...They can make a person weak..." he said while examining his wand uninterested. "Not always..." Mathilda corrected and caught the boy's attention once more who folded his arms smirking. "Oh so that's the reason why your vehemence towards Slitherins is so delightfully obvious? Perhaps if you would hide it a bit more, they-" he stopped and smirked before correcting himself "-_we_ wouldn't bother you so much then..." Mathilda chuckled. "I do not make a habbit of letting people get away with the sort of things you lot do or say. I can stand up just fine for what I believe and I guarantee you I'll come out winning. I may be a ghastly transfigurationist but I'm a hell of a dueler." "Modesty is so becoming of you Torch." He said bluntly his tone filled with sarcasm. Mathilda raised her eyes to him once more "I had no intention of sounding conceited, I simply know where my value lies." "And who taught you?" "My mother..." she said looking him in the eyes. "You must be proud of her..." he said leaning back on his chair. "I'm proud of my father as well..."she said glaring at him knowing full well that he had knowledge that her father was a muggle. "Why?" he asked chuckling as if Mathilda had said something incredibly ridiculous. "He taught me things you won't learn in this school or another..." "And i believe stubbornness was one of them...seeing how you seem to refuse to ask me what the spell was in the first place." Mathilda grumbled "Look Riddle I didn't ask for your help, as much as i am sure you did not ask to be the one to help me, and trust me I did try to talk the professor out of it and send me to someone else... Sadly it didn't quite work out as well as I planned which is why I'm here in the first place now isn't it!" she said raising her voice slightly. "So much hatred on your behalf Griffindor…" "I don't hate you Riddle… I couldn't care any less of you." The tone she had used was so calm that it shocked through indifference- Riddle eyed her again closely. "Lepus intra vino" Riddle said ignoring her last comment and smirking. Mathilda's expression remained blank- she had expected some form of retaliation which had not come- she knew he wanted something as he became too nice, too quickly. "Yes , that's going to be easy to remember..." Mathilda tried once, and the rabbit turned into a goblet but with ears and a fluffy tail, the next time she tried she turned the rabbit into a rat with ears and it only seemed that she was getting worse by the minute. She groaned in annoyance and started to have arguments with the things she would transfigurate the rabbit into. At one point, tired and frustrated she simply knocked her head on the table. Riddle watched her amused yet did not insult her in any way. "You're doing it all wrong..." he said casually. " I've kind of noticed that..." she said watching her rabbit turn into a larva. "Well there goes my dinner…I think i turned this rabbit into everything that flies, crawls, or swims by now… Oh get back there!" She said exasperated waving her wand and returning the larva, which was trying to desperately get away, back to its original position. Riddle's lips curled slightly into a meek smile which he quickly subsided as his eyes met hers. He seemed a lot different than when Mathilda first started to talk to him, which was why she was frowning at him, she knew something was wrong she knew he wanted something and was quite certain what he wanted to ask her but she had to keep quiet, and let him speak first- still she could not bring herself to ignore the smile which she had goten a mere glimpse of. "Look it's not that hard, recite after me..." Mathilda did as she was told. "Well good you got that right, now look at my wrist, the way it moves..." he said the spell flicking his wand and the rabbit turned into a goblet filled with crimson red wine. Mathilda suppressed a smile. "Your turn now..." he said watching her. "I can't get the ruddy wrist movement right though..." she said frowning " Let me help..." he said and got up. He sat on the chair next to her and snaked his hand around hers. This was the last thing that Mathilda had expected and within a second she could feel her cheeks becoming bright red; she did not dare look him in the eyes but merely gazed at her hand suddenly paying very much attention to the movement. "Leepus intra…" Mathilda started. "Lepus…" Riddle whispered calmly and clearly close to her ear so she could understand it right. Tensing up, she nodded her head feeling the blood rush to her cheeks even more. She gulped slightly dew to her nerves acting up "Lepus intra vino…" she said and the rabbit turned for the first time into a goblet of wine. Mathilda's face was suddenly brightened by a big broad smile and she looked at Riddle pleased with herself. "By yourself now..." She nodded and frowned, in deep concentration as she grabbed her wand. "Lepus intra vino!" she spoke and flicked her wand as Tom showed her. The rabbit turned once again into a beautiful goblet. "I did it..." she said astonished. "And it only took you about 2 hours to learn..." Riddle commented. "_Well I'm sure the spell will come in handy when I'll be turning into an alcoholic…_" The girl said. "Erm...well Riddle, I never thought I'd be saying this to you but... thank you" she said with great strain. "You're a talented witch, I'm sure, you just don't know it yet...If you concentrate, and with the _right help_ I'm sure you'll improve. Plus, since you've been able to keep it hidden for so long, I think you already mastered metamorphogy fairly well for someone of your age, I heard of adult wizards who still have problems with theirs. It's actually truly extraordinary that you've managed to keep it hidden for so long..." he said. "And why is it so extraordinary?" she asked placing her books down and arching an eyebrow. "You needn't be so defensive Mathilda… I'm not judging you by your skills in Transfiguration. Nor do I intend on thinking less of you because of your… gift…on the contrary, it managed to raise my interest." He ended looking at her smugly. So that was it, that was what it was about, she was right. She took a deep breath and raised her head high. " I'm quite curious about something..." she said quietly and sweetly. "Yes?" he asked looking at her more attentive. "Do you actually think that I'm stupid enough to fall for this?" Riddle frowned a bit as he did not understand. "Just because I blushed when you put your hand over mine, do you think I'd be such an idiot? But i guess that's a stupid question, since you did try it in the first place... If you wanted to see me transform all you had to do was ask Riddle. Not put on that rather ridiculous and obviously fake scene..." she said getting up. Riddle smirked coldly and Mathilda realized that never till that moment had she had so much distain for someone, not even Mulciber. Mathilda could actually see Riddle's features darkening, biting down on his lip so as to not let out the outburst of anger he felt pulsating through him. "So show me then..." he demanded coldly as if transforming was beneficial for her. Mathilda picked up her books and looked at him. "No..." she said. "Because you're like all the rest of them…" At this Riddle glared daggers at her. "Looking a bit flustered aren't you Torch…" he sneered referring to the red planted in Mathilda's cheeks. The girl gazed into Riddle's eyes menacingly, but was quick to calm herself down. She picked up her books once more. "You may fool everyone else, even the teachers, but you're not fooling me... You and all your cronies can go and slither under your little rock..." she hissed and made an attempt to leave. As she turned back to take the goblet with her and Riddle grabbed her wrist. "_Never_ talk to me like that again..." he said calmly yet still holding a firm grip on her hand "I kindly suggest you let go..." Mathilda said smiling. Riddle did not do so. The girl turned her head and cheerily called out. "Oye Priam!" Mathilda yelled as she saw Priam Diggory pass and Riddle quickly let go of her hand, leaving behind the red imprint where his hand grasped onto Mathilda's. "Hello Mathilda...Riddle" the new-comer said nodding at the last, and Tom smiled and nodded his head as well. " Priam, I kind of need some help with Transfigurations... May I impose on your mental sanity and bugger you with some questions?" the girl asked jokingly. "Would be my pleasure Mathilda..." Diggory said chuckling "Ah thanks..." she said turning away and not paying Riddle any attention what-so-ever. "Is that a new robe?" Mathilda asked sweetly as she locked arms with the Hufflepuff boy. "Why yes it is..." the boy said smiling. "Looks lovely on you Priam." Mathilda complimented and edged him on towards the door. "Thank you, I'm glad you like it... Erm, see you around Riddle..." he turned his head slightly, and Riddle nodded again smiling. Mathilda however continued walking as if she had not noticed him. The two were off; Mathilda's laughter being heard through the library while Riddle was at the same desk, his eyes glistening with anger.


End file.
